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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600854">in and out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa'>celosiaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>JM + Emma [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, JM adopted a child, Jordanian Jon, M/M, Paramedic Martin, and he gets the love and comfort he deserves, arabic-speaking jon, lonely martin, martin is hurting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:42:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/pseuds/celosiaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin has been working nonstop the past few days, and really misses Jon and their daughter.</p><p>But he can just push through, right?  Like he always does.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>JM + Emma [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Emmaverse AU</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in and out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For those who don't know, this is part of a long-form series about Jonmartin and their adopted daughter, Emma. There will be snippets, oneshots, and multi-chaptered fics spotlighting on their family dynamic! Not all of them will be in order of linear time, so I will be sure to indicate Emma's age in the beginning notes of each fic.</p><p>Emma's age: 10</p><p>(Habibi = "my dear/darling/love," hayati = "my life")</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Watching Jon and Emma at the kitchen table, laughing over a cup of tea sends the bitterest of pangs through Martin’s chest. He’s tired--no, he’s <em>exhausted</em>, and it feels like ages since he’s seen either of their faces longer than just in passing. It’s all just so foggy. And it <em>hurts</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Christ.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Pull it together, Martin.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Just push through today, and you’ll have tomorrow with them.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>...if they want.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <em>Stop it stop it stop it</em> </strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mind set, heart not so much, Martin picks up his bag--turning over his shoulder to look at them again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m headed out,” he says, voice sounding--muffled?--in his ears. “Bye, love you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Wait wait wait--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Turning back at once at his husband’s alarmed tone, he sweeps his eyes around quickly for the danger--before finding Jon in front of him, one hand pressed on his chest, the other on his face, an expression of terrible worry covering his face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you with me, Martin?” he asks, searching his eyes desperately.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Wh--am I with...?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And now he sees the source of Jon’s worry: the wisps of fog rolling out of his mouth with every word.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh,” is all he can say.  All he can think to say, really.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Talk to me, <em>hayati</em>,” Jon pleads, leading him back toward the sofa.  “Tell me where you are.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve--I’ve got to work, Jon, I’ll be late--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You always get there early,” he says, gently trying to push him toward the sofa, as Emma approaches with alarm. “Just talk to me for a moment, alright?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad?  Are you alright?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And of course, that would be what does it for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Because she shouldn’t have to care, right? She shouldn’t have to worry about him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“M’fine,” he gasps, shocked to find mist pouring from his eyes where tears ought to be. “S-sorry, I don’t--”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sit down, <em>habibi</em>--please sit down.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And he supposes he does, as it seems like he blinks--and in the next moment, finds his husband and his daughter curled up against him, Jon’s eyes flecked with green, as if threatening to dive back into wherever Martin had lost himself and pull him out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m back,” he whispers heavy-laden with guilt, trying so desperately to keep his body from trembling. He knows that they might as well be cuddled up against an ice block, he’s been so cold the past few days, so terribly Lonely all he could do was bury it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Martin,” Jon sighs with relief, pressing a kiss, two--against his frozen cheek.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad!” Emma cries, flinging herself across him and hugging him tighter.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And god, he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve the love they’re giving him in this moment.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, <em>habibi</em>,” Jon soothes, running a hand over his cheek, wiping away the tears that have begun to fall properly now. “It’s alright.  We’re here, and you’re not alone. You can have a cry.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, have a cry, Dad!  It’s okay.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>I don’t deserve this.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But he leans into it anyway, letting a bit of the frozen, aching, sickening Lonely seep out of his bones in his family’s arms.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you all enjoyed this little snippet!!! </p><p>If you're interested in seeing some previews of topics to come, as well as other great stuff people have sent in about this verse, hit up my Tumblr @celosiaa and search through the #emma tag!</p><p>have a great day!<br/>-love, connor</p></blockquote></div></div>
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